


Into the Night, I Cry Out Your Name

by shocked_into_shame



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Bottom Billy Hargrove, Extremely Dubious Consent, Fuck Or Die, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Sex Pollen, Vomiting is mentioned, borderline non con, please mind the tags, post-season 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-29 14:05:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19401847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shocked_into_shame/pseuds/shocked_into_shame
Summary: The trees were alive. Their branches, weaving out above them, were like the long, shadowy arms that once wrapped themselves around him. They were watching from above. His heart thumped in his chest, blood rushing in his ears. All he could do was stuff his hands in his pockets and walk along.-Steve and Billy, in the wake of S3, patrol the woods, and stumble upon a flower that makes them both need to touch each other or else.Day 6 of Harringrove Pornathon





	Into the Night, I Cry Out Your Name

**Author's Note:**

> Please, if you are in anyway triggered by issues of consent, do not read this. It's on the cusp of being non-con. (For both Steve & Billy)
> 
> Also, you are legally obligated to listen to "Into the Night" by Julee Cruise (from the Twin Peaks soundtrack) while you listen to this.

The woods were dark that night. A different kind of darkness than it used to be, before all that had happened. Now darkness was changed. It was seething and seeping, and made him feel like there were eyes on the back of his head. Made him have to resist the urge to turn around to see what lurked behind. It was only Steve’s presence, walking beside him, that made him calm. He listened to the crunch of leaves as Steve walked, thought about the summer that had finally come to a close. 

The worst summer of his life. His flesh broke out in goosebumps just thinking about it. Panic bubbled up as he walked, remembering everything that had happened. Remembering that his body was  _ taken _ , used as a little plaything. Manipulated and molded into something he never wanted to be. He was bad. He knew this. But he never wanted to be  _ evil _ . 

The trees were alive. Their branches, weaving out above them, were like the long, shadowy arms that once wrapped themselves around him. They were watching from above. His heart thumped in his chest, blood rushing in his ears. All he could do was stuff his hands in his pockets and walk along.

Steve must have sensed it because he stopped walking, then, staring at Billy with an unreadable expression. Steve was panicked, too, almost all of the time. Billy could see it in the way he held himself, all stiff shoulders and quick movements, and Billy felt relieved that he wasn’t the only one. Wasn’t the only one who didn’t know how to move on from any of this. Didn’t know how to be normal again. 

He didn’t think he  _ could _ be normal again. Not when the ever-looming threat still lingered in the dark. 

They patrolled. Every night they met on Mirkwood and patrolled the forest, not even bothering to talk. Just standing close to each other, walking along aimlessly, looking for anything that could be in the woods. 

The air was chilled. Billy shivered. His hands shook. 

“Let’s…” Steve began, voice raspy. “Let’s sit down over here,” he gestured toward a large tree, its roots spread out all over the ground around it. Bile rose up in Billy’s throat and he wanted to scream _no_ _I can’t stop walking. I can’t sit._

But instead he followed, sitting down at the base of the big tree looming over them, and tried not to vomit all over Steve Harrington’s beautiful Adidas shoes. Steve started to pluck at the ground aimlessly. Billy couldn’t look away from the movement of his hands. 

“Do you ever feel like…” he started, plucking a strange looking flower. Billy felt a twinge of fear, like an icy hand was clutching at the back of his neck. He couldn’t stop staring at that strange little flower. “Do you ever feel like running? Going somewhere else, anywhere else. But then… Then you realize that no matter how far away you get from Hawkins  _ this _ is never going to leave you.”

“Yeah,” Billy admitted with a sigh. “Feels like that all the time. I know this thing is out of me… but I can’t trust it.”

“Yeah,” Steve echoed. 

“Have you ever had someone take your body for a spin? Ever had someone get in your head and convince you to do… unspeakable fucking things? I don’t think I’ll ever stop seeing what I did.”

“ _ You _ didn’t do anything,” Steve insisted, dropping the purple flower to the ground. “The Mind Flayer did. And we got him out of you. I  _ know _ we did.” 

“Right,” Billy leaned back against the giant tree and closed his eyes. The ground was slightly damp below him and it was uncomfortable against his jeans. He tried to focus on the sounds of crickets in the background, tried to tune out all the noise in his head. 

“What the fuck?” Steve muttered and Billy’s eyes flew open. Steve was staring intently at his hands, covered in some kind of purple dust, evidently from the flower. Billy’s stomach turned as he watched Steve brush his hands together, sending up a cloud of purple dust in both of their faces. 

Billy coughed violently as he breathed in the dust. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he muttered, pounding at his chest as his coughs wracked his entire frame. 

“Fuck,” Steve said in shock after his own coughing fit receded. “Oh, fuck.” It seemed his brain had shut off, and all that was left were expletives. Billy felt no better off. The whole world seemed to turn on its axis and a fog wormed its way into his vision. There was a pang of sharp, painful arousal in his gut. He couldn’t breathe. 

“What’s happening?” he asked desperately, reaching out for Steve. Steve clasped his hand tightly. It was new. It was wrong. 

He didn’t quite care. He needed to  _ touch _ . 

“I don’t know,” Steve panted, his face getting redder by the second and sweat pooling at his temple. Billy’s own face was aflame and he tightened his grip on Steve’s clammy palm.

“Do you think this could be him?” he gasped. “Is he back?” 

“I don’t  _ know _ ,” Steve repeated, wiping his face with his free hand. Billy’s stomach began to clench at the sight. He watched Steve breathe, enraptured, and felt the overwhelming need to reach out and  _ touch _ , to reach out and feel every inch of bare skin that he could find on Steve Harrington’s body.

God, he was fucking hard. Hard as a rock, and already leaking at the tip. It hurt. It fucking hurt worse than he could express and he tipped his head back against the tree, panting hard. Steve was looking at him with pupils blown wide. Judging by the state of his jeans, he was feeling pretty much the same. 

“Jesus, man,” Steve gasped. “I think… I think it wants us to…?” he trailed off. Billy licked his bottom lip. 

_ No, _ some distant part of his brain begged.  _ Please don’t lose control again.  _

“You think so?”

Steve gasped and nodded, his chest heaving violently. His grip on Billy’s hand tightened to the point where it was painful. “I  _ need _ ,” his voice broke. 

Billy just nodded violently and crawled his way into Steve’s lap, and kissing was an inevitability, really. It did nothing but make the itch under his skin worse. It was getting harder and harder to breathe. 

Their erections brushed together and Billy howled against Steve’s lips. Steve gripped onto his arms, making Billy wince, and he bucked his hips against Billy’s. Their tongues intertwined filthily. Billy was a mess of drool and sweat. He was spiralling out of control. He couldn’t be out of control, couldn’t  _ stand _ to be out of control.

He needed to end this. The urge was like some vile, otherworldly thing bubbling in his stomach and crawling out of his throat. He needed to get rid of it to be in control again.

Steve grabbed at his hips and they rocked against each other, barely even kissing anymore. It was more like they were gasping and panting and groaning into each other’s mouths as they grinded. The friction was delicious and it wasn’t  _ enough _ . 

“I think we need to…” Billy gasped out and then buried his face in Steve’s neck, biting hard at the skin there. He shuddered at the loud, blissed out groan Steve gave in reply. “I need you to fuck me.”

Steve’s hips bucked up wildly and Billy’s head spun. “Yeah,” Steve gasped and then they were worming their way out of their jeans, struggling to get them off and not wanting to move away from each other for one goddamned second. The mere thought of not touching Steve made his chest clench, made him feel like he was going to die. He honest-to-God thought that he might, if he didn’t do something about the clenching in his stomach and the hardness between his legs.

Once they were shimmied out of their pants, rolled down to their ankles, they were kissing again, over and over until Billy’s head spun and his cock throbbed. “Let me…” Steve gasped as he clutched at Billy’s bare thigh, leaving little fingernail marks in the golden skin there. “I have to…”

Billy hushed him and licked at his neck. He reached for Steve’s hand and wrapped his mouth around his fingers, drooling over them. Steve whimpered and clawed at Billy’s thigh. Billy eased Steve’s hand down to that place between his legs, and Steve pressed a damp fingertip at his entrance. 

When the first finger entered him he began to shake, mumbling Steve’s name over and over. It was the only thing he could say anymore, the only thought that filled his brain. He needed  _ Steve _ .

It was Steve’s turn to shush him. “I got you,” Steve murmured, kissing his shoulder and moving his finger  _ just so _ . He eased another finger in and Billy couldn’t stop twitching, his muscles moving and clenching of their own volition. 

He reached down and grabbed Steve’s cock by the base. Steve whined, low in his throat, and bit at Billy’s collarbone. That’d certainly leave a mark. He couldn’t be bothered to care. All he could think about how much he needed Steve cock inside of him, how much he needed it to drive away the fog in his brain and the clenching in his chest. 

“Need you in me, Steve,” he breathed, and Steve gasped deliriously before grimacing.

“You aren’t ready. I’m going to hurt you.” 

“I don’t fucking  _ care _ ,” Billy groaned as the pad of Steve’s fingertip rubbed against that spot within him and made him see stars. “Hurt me all you fucking want. I need you to fuck me.”

“Jesus,” Steve breathed, and when Billy looked into his eyes all he could see was  _ black _ , and he knew that this hurt Steve just as much as it hurt him. Steve needed it just as much as he did, was desperate for it just like he was. 

Billy spit into his palm and rubbed it on Steve’s cock. He relished the shout he got in return. And then he eased his hips up and impaled himself on the hard, long line of Steve’s shaft. 

He threw his head back and howled, and Steve screamed too, arms shaking as he wrapped them around Billy’s back and shoved his sweaty face into his neck. It hurt, God it fucking  _ hurt _ , but it also chased away the fog in his brain, made breathing just this side of easier. He didn’t give himself anytime to adjust. 

His hips bucked of their own accord. Steve clutched at his thighs, bending his knees and using his feet for purchase against the damp soil beneath them. He fucked up into Billy at a brutal pace, and all Billy could do was let his mouth hang open and take it. 

They pressed their foreheads together. Steve’s face was clenched up in what looked like pain. Billy was floating, higher and higher, and all he could do was cry out Steve’s name into the darkness. Steve’s cock pressed into him relentlessly. He grabbed at any part of Steve he could. 

“I’m going to come,” Steve breathed, not stopping the hard thrusts of his hips. Billy whined like a bitch in heat. 

“Yes,” he breathed. “Come in me. Let me feel it.  _ Fuck,  _ Steve. I  _ need  _ it.” He was weakened to a sobbing, begging mess in Steve Harrington’s lap. Some part of him was ashamed. A larger, louder part of him was afraid, begging him to get back his control  _ now _ . 

The loudest, most dominant voice in his head was begging to come. He bucked his hips down, and the loud, slapping noise of flesh on flesh was filthy in the open air of the forest. The ground was damp beneath him. The unwavering branches of the tree above them looked down at them in disdain. 

He was falling apart at every press of Steve’s cock to his spot, and he felt tears prick at his eyes. Steve looked at him like he was the most gorgeous thing in the world. It made his chest clench. 

“Please, Steve,” he begged, head lolling down to rest on Steve’s shoulder. “I need to come. I need to feel you come. Please, come with me Steve. I need to come with you.” He couldn’t stop the words pouring from his lips like a prayer. 

“Yes,” Steve gritted out, fucking into him even harder, if that were at all possible. Steve reached down and wrapped one hand around Billy’s cock, stroking at it from tip to base just as he gave a particularly hard thrust upward. 

The shout that unravelled from Billy’s throat was animal. He threw his head back and screamed, howled, like he was exorcising a demon, like he was removing whatever trace of influence anything had on his body, and as he felt Steve clench and shout beneath him, as he felt a rush of dampness into the tight channel between his legs, he was tipped over the edge into sweet oblivion. His body shook with the force of it and all he could do was let his fingers scramble for purchase in the plains of Steve’s still-clothed back. 

“Fuck,” Steve panted, tugging him close. “Are you okay?” he rasped. 

Billy couldn’t do this. He couldn’t cuddle close and whisper sweet nothings, not when his cum was drying on Steve’s henley and Steve’s was dribbling out of his hole. If anything were ever going to happen with Steve Harrington, this is not how he wanted it to. He had dreamt of sweet nothings and gentle kisses. He had hoped for friendship first. He had hoped to  _ apologize _ . He hadn’t gotten to yet. 

He felt cheap. He felt dirty and disgusting and used. Bile rose up in his throat again and he felt sick, but at least he was  _ in control _ now. At least he could force himself to breathe normally, to swallow down the sickness. 

He got up from Steve’s lap, wincing at the loss of Steve’s shaft within him. He couldn’t look at Steve, not now, when his face was painted with such an earnest look of concern. He pulled up his pants wordlessly and looked down at the ground. He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Get up,” he spat. Steve’s forehead wrinkled and he frowned. 

“Billy…” he sighed and stood up, reaching for him. Billy shoved his hand away. 

“We have to keep patrolling. We gotta keep walking.”

“Okay,” Steve relented and pulled up his jeans. 

Wordlessly, they walked on, deeper into the dark woods. 

  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
